


Used and Scraped

by SC_Sinclaire



Category: Monologues - Fandom
Genre: Internal Monologue, Questions, Workplace musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 16:53:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SC_Sinclaire/pseuds/SC_Sinclaire
Summary: A short internal monologue about the socioeconomic divide between people.





	Used and Scraped

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I was going to post another a short story but my phone's word doc doesn't have them. Oops. So here's a monologue I wrote while at work during a particularly slow shift. Hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know what to do. I can’t just leave… can I? Can I just…walk away? From it all? Is it possible for me to drop everything? To just…turn away? Haven’t I given enough? Haven’t I suffered and sacrificed enough? Don’t I deserves a chance to leave this- this mess behind? But I suppose it’s not about what I deserve. It’s never been about me. None of this revolves around me. I’m just a pawn, a piece stuck in a twisted game. I’m not special. I don’t have what they have, yet I’m the one making these decisions. I’m the one being forced to sacrifice everything, and for what? Their vanity? Their pride? I’m forced to give everything I have so they can live their spoilt lives? I break and bleed so they can have whatever they want without lifting so much as a finger? Where’s the justice in that? Where does it say that people like me have to scrape by with barely a roof over our heads and a penny to our name, while they recline in luxury? They point their gilded fingers and expect us to jump to obey. They control us with little more than a wave of their hand. One word and they can make us cease to exist. With a tilt of the head and a twisted grin they pit us against each other. Force us to fight like dogs for whatever scraps they deign to throw at us. They’ve gotten so good at it we don’t even realize that scraps are all we’re getting. Why me? Why us? What did we do wrong? What didn’t we do right? Who gave them dominion over the rest of us? Who decide that we’re only worth what we can give them? Haven’t we given them enough? Haven’t they stolen enough of us, taken enough from us? I guess it’s never really been about me, or about us. It’s always been about them. It’s always been about who they are. It’s always been about what they want and how they can get it. I just wish I knew how to change it.”


End file.
